


when you were mine

by Kirschli_Kuchen



Category: Marvel
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, M/M, vaguely criminal AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-12
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-07-14 17:17:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7182155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kirschli_Kuchen/pseuds/Kirschli_Kuchen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint can't bring himself to like a life without Bucky, but – realistically – that's probably what he's looking at here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	when you were mine

**Author's Note:**

> guess who took a nose dive into winterhawk hell? It me.  
> (also please tell me if I got their characters wrong)

Clint stares for a moment, incredulous, “Bucky?” he asks the empty space a man had been faulting through just milliseconds ago, “Nat, was that Bucky?”

“What?” Natasha asks as she comes to a stop beside him. 

“Was that Bucky?” he repeats into the eery silence after the firefight. 

Natasha's brow wrinkles, then she puts a hand up to her ear, “Tony, do you have tape on the last ten minutes?” Clint had lost his earwig somewhere in the fight so he can't hear the response, but he hears Natasha's acknowledgment, “Okay,” she turns back to Clint, “We're going back to the safe house.”

  


Clint met Bucky for the first time while he was running a small con by himself. Just a quick multi-casino scam, a week with a couple hundred bucks per day, easy money. He'd just finished for the day and was headed down to the club for a bit of harmless fun, maybe get a one night stand out of it.

There on the crowded dance floor he saw a seriously hot guy dancing all on his lonesome and really he couldn't just let that slide. So he sidles up to him and pretty much plasters himself to his front, hands on his impressive biceps first and then on his tiny waist when they make eye contact and the guy slides his arms around his shoulders. They gyrate against each other for a time, hands wandering to more and more unmentionable places until Clint's murmuring for them to move it someplace more private.

By the end of the night he knows that ultra hot dude is named Bucky, he's in Vegas with his best friend, and he is really, really,  _really_ good at blow jobs. 

  


Back at the safe house Clint rounds in on Tony, demanding, “Was that my fucking boyfriend at our raid?”

Tony just calmly turns the screen over to him and Clint watches with horror as the grainy video slowly resolves and sharpens to Bucky's body and face.

“Aww, Bucky no,” Clint says and runs a shaky hand over his face, the knuckles of his other hand turning white where he holds himself up with the edge of the desk.

Natasha lays a calming hand on his shoulder but he shakes it off.

“This is a problem,” Tony says without any real inflection and sits back heavily in his chair. 

There is an indeterminable pause.

Then from the back of the room comes a soft, “No, it isn't,” it's Bruce, “He comes at us we get him first,” Clint raises his head and draws a sharp breath, ready to start something but stops when Bruce says, “We won't actively pursue him, Clint, but we  _will_ take him down if he comes after us.” 

Clint takes a deep steadying breath, “Okay,” he says on a sighing exhale, “Okay.”

Natasha frowns in his peripheral vision.

  


Clint and Bucky exchanged phone numbers after their first stint in Vegas and started texting pretty regularly. Figures they'd actually live in the same city. So Clint asks him out on a date and they take it from there with occasional hookups and some actual dates in between.

Clint doesn't think he's ever been this happy in his life.

Of course it's only a matter of time before Bucky stumbles in on his closest family.

Natasha takes to him like a tiger to a fat t-bone steak – that is happily and savagely. They get along on a basis of scathing remarks and ragging on Clint and Clint might have to rescind his earlier statement and tell it like it is:  _this_ is  _definitely_ the happiest he's ever been in his life. 

  


They plan.

Well, Bruce and Tony and Nat and the rest plan. Clint just kind of sits there having a very minor major case of the panicks.

Time gets kind of funky. Before Clint can do much more than lay down on the couch in the corner it's morning again.

Their next target's been chosen.

It's showtime.

  


Clint lets out a little whine as Bucky licks into his mouth one last time before he pulls back.

“Bed?” he asks in this gravelly voice that turns Clint's knees to putty. Clint pushes away from the wall and wordlessly hauls Bucky over to the bed room. He shoves Bucky in the general direction of the bed while he hits the wall for the light switch. There's a stumble and a crash before Clint hits the switch and sees Bucky on his back on the floor with the comforter half on him and half still on the bed. 

“Ouch,” he says and Clint can't help himself but burst out laughing. 

“Smooth, Barnes,” Cling gets out between his giggles. Bucky frowns. 

“Dude, that was _entirely_ your fault,” he grumbles as he disentangles himself from the comforter. Clint offers him a hand up and uses it to pull him up into a giggly kiss. 

“Yes, yes,” Clint says between longer and longer kisses, “All my fault.”

Bucky lets his hands  run down over Clint's back where they land firmly on his ass. Clint shivers. 

“Finally up for the bed?” Bucky asks into Clint's mouth. 

“It's been up for so long,” Clint moans and Bucky snorts. 

“That was so bad,” Bucky says as he shoves Clint on the bed.

“Only for you,” Clint says and pulls him down with him as Bucky descends into laughter.

  


Well then.

This looks bad.

This looks really really bad.

Clint has Natasha's arm over his shoulders and they're vaguely hobble-shuffling to a safer place, maybe the little office in the back. Yeah, that'll work. He herds Nat over in that direction and settles her on the ground beside the desk turning it over for cover.

He gently takes her leg, cuts a slit up her jeans and inspects what he  _thought_ would be a bad graze but turns out to be a lodged bullet and probably a cracked tibia. 

“How's it look?” she asks in soft Russian and he just makes a vague gesture with his hand. He cuts her jeans fully off at her knee and then into a long strip he uses to dress her wound. 

Something shatters loudly behind them. Clint and Natasha both automatically bring their guns up but freeze when they see it's Bucky who just broke through the window.

For a second nothing happens.

Bucky looks at them, looks to the ground and then slowly raises his gun and shoots Natasha in the stomach.

_Oh_ , Clint thinks,  _so this is how this ends_ . 

“Aww, Bucky.”

He takes a deep breath and lines up his shot.


End file.
